First of all, my sincerest apology. All I can say is that the prolonged delay was due to my laptop crash and me mourning for its semi-death. I'm not going to give a full coverage. If you still want to know, there's a detailed entry in my journey about that.
Now that I am semi-back-on-a-roll mode, I can get my stories kicking. Unfortunately, BYNK and TCIM are going to be on semi-hold because, BYNK ain't done yet and TCIM - I am missing a chapter. I have six ready to post, but I lost five. I am only able to retrieve 6 from all the files I've lost - among other things. So until I can get kicking, TCIM will be on hold for just a few more days. BYNK - I have no promises. Again, you have my sincere apologies!
I want to thankKagaya for helping me get this chapter back - something I thought I lost. Thank heavens she had a copy! Bless you! I also want to thank my beta-reader v-chan (b4k4-girl)!
Oh well, on we go!
JU-ON 10
Swaying back and forth between trying to stay awake and his mind forcing him to get some sleep, Iruka stared blearily at the hospital ceiling. Tsunade confined him to the hospital for a few more nights, in order to do a thorough study of what was going on in his system, just incase she made a mistake. But Iruka saw it in her eyes that what she had diagnosed was not a mistake. He kept remembering her words, as to how his insides were melting with the accumulating heat. And maybe it explained the pain he was going through.
A heavy sigh escaped his slightly chapped and pale lips, as he forced himself to sit up and turn his body so that he was facing the window and watching the rain fall. The nurse had come in earlier, injecting him with medicines and attaching an IV fluid on to his arm so that his body would get its dosage of nutrients. He wanted to yell, to scream, to just strangle the nurse and tell her that it was no use treating him with medicines because he was dying anyway.
I'm dying.
Yet he remained quiet, allowed her to do her job, ate his small diet-fixed meal, and then lay on his bed for hours. A quick glance at the wall clock told him that it was twelve-forty-five in the morning. Tsunade told him not to worry about his class, and that she would have someone take over. Iruka had started blurting out lessons for the children, and all the safety tips in practicing since they were in shuriken handling at the moment, and Tsunade merely chuckled, patting his shoulder, and told him not to calm down. But Iruka couldn't, even if he wanted to. His head was shouting a frantic mantra hours ago that he was dying, which was now reduced to a quiet whisper caressing the sides of his thoughts.
I'm dying.
What he found a bit surprising was his acceptance and lack of reaction on the outside to the news that his life was just cut short by a couple of decades. Yet, Tsunade looked at him with deep sadness, which told him of the inner fight the woman must be going through because of her pride as a medic. What was the use of being the best medic there was in Konoha when she couldn't even save him? When he saw that look in her eyes, he took her hands and gave them a slight squeeze, as if to say that he forgave her for the thing she couldn't do.
I'm dying.
He began to wonder about the things he's done in his life. There weren't many things he achieved that were of silver-plaque-material. He had gained the trust of the village and that was something he treasured. Also, his love for Naruto and how the boy picked him as his role model and father figure instead of Kakashi or Jiraiya was enough to turn him in to puddle of mush. It was an achievement he was proud of and, when he thought about it, Naruto was the best thing that happened to him ever since he met him. And this was probably the reason why accepting his death seemed a bit easy.
He stared at his reflection on the window. He looked so tired and so old all of a sudden that it made him want to cry. He didn't know himself anymore and it hurts. A tired sigh escaped his lips, as he momentarily closed his eyes to soothe the burning ache behind his lids. He couldn't help but sigh as some of the burning feeling died away, until he felt a chill run down his spine, making him shiver. Fear enveloped him, and he suddenly realized his mistake. He opened his eyes, the pupils dilating. The sterile white walls and green curtains that were supposed to be framing a window were now gone. He was staring directly at someone. People. Lots of pale naked people, their bodies slightly tinged blue and sometimes green, like they were rotting. Their dark eyes were staring directly at him, rimmed with black circles and flashing malice. Iruka found his entire body numb.
"Why won't you kill him?""Why won't you kill him?"
"Why won't you kill him?"
"Why won't you kill him?"
Iruka brought his hands to his face and shut his eyes tight. "No." He shook his head vigorously, feeling cool hands touching him everywhere. "No." He whispered again, and tried to get away from them, moving backwards on the bed. "No!" He shouted, and fell back on the other side, his back coming in to contact with the sterile hospital gray floor. He gave out a muffled cry and began to moan in pain. He shook his head and cracked his eyes open and found his red-eyed mirror image staring down at him, a manic grin on his face.
He backed away, choking on his own breath with fear and managed, somehow, to get on his feet and jump in to the bathroom, kicking the door shut, as he slid across the tiled floors, away from the door. His back came in to contact with what felt like knees and he gave out a surprised and choked gasp as he whipped around, the white yutaka he was wearing now very distorted on his frame. Looking up, he found his mirror-image, glaring down at him, leering, smirking and flashing extremely white teeth.
"You can't get away from me! You never will! Kill him! Kill him and live! Kill him and I'll give you peace! KILL HIM!"
Iruka didn't know how, but he managed to get away from the bathroom, semi run and crawl toward the door of his room and bolted down the quiet halls and out the hospital doors in quick blur, the rain drenching him as he rushed for his home, arriving in minutes.
Iruka twisted the doorknob of his front door frantically, completely forgetting that his clothes were in the hospital along with his belongings. Feeling rather desperate, he pulled his fist back – which was already bleeding from the hastily pulled out IV needle - concentrated and punched his door until the wood cracked and he made a small hole, just enough to squeeze his hand through and twist the knob from inside. The door clicked open and he pushed it desperately, wrenching his hand from the hole, injuring it and having several wooden splits embedded in to the already delicate state of his hand. He shut the door with a slam, and sat on the couch, curling up on one corner and leaning against the armrest, completely drenched. He buried his head in to one of his folded arms, his bleeding hand on his lap, soaking the white hospital yutaka he was wearing. He had moved pretty fast out of fear and he doubted anyone saw him running and even if they did, they would have seen nothing but a blur of white and dark hair.
Time didn't seem to have existed within him anymore. Everything just didn't seem to matter as he stared blankly – his eyes glazed with lurking death – at fabric of his couch. The cold from being soaked in the rain didn't seem to bother him. He was aware of his toes going numb along with the tips of his fingers and he wouldn't be surprised if they were blue already. He was begin to zone out, but his strong willpower to stay awake and not fall asleep kept his mind semi-conscious as he continued to stare at the fabric of his couch from his position. The sound of the door opening cautiously along with soft footsteps reached his senses, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother to look since there was only one person who would walk in to his house like he owned the place and this quietly.
A hand came to his shoulder shaking him. He wanted so badly to close his eyes and just sleep but fear was pulling him back from the one haven that he's been deprived off the past few days. Staring back at Kakashi's eyes, he could see the barest hints of questioning and puzzlement.
"Where were you?" Kakashi asked, although he already knew since the hospital symbol was stitched on to one sleeve of the robe he was wearing.
"Nowhere." Iruka replied, tiredly, almost dead. It was a whispered reply, tired and resigned.
Kakashi reached for the knot of the robe and tugged it loose, peeled the wet material off him and set it aside on the floor. "Get dried. You'll get sick."
"Doesn't matter." Iruka whispered.
"Stop it!" Kakashi said sharply. "Get up! Come on, get dried! How long have you been like this?"
"I don't know." Iruka whimpered. "I don't care."
"I said, stop it!" Kakashi snapped once more. "What's wrong with you? You were never like this."
"I know." Iruka whispered and shifted to that he was staring at the ceiling. "I know."
I'm dying.
"You need to get some sleep." Kakashi stood up and carried his light figure to the bed room, set him on the bed gently and grabbed a set of pajamas from the closet, helping him in to them. "What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie." Kakashi hissed and retrieved the medical kit from the bathroom. Using the tweezers, he began to pick out the little wooden splinters from Iruka's hand, applied some disinfectant and medicine and bandaged the minor wound, along with the one from the IV needle.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Iruka replied, turning his head away.
"So this is how it's going to be?" Kakashi asked, very annoyed. He was starting to get very quiet.
"I don't know why you're asking. I don't even know why you're bothering. You never used to anyway. Why start now?" Iruka asked, not even looking at him anymore. "I'm tired, Kakashi. I'm so very tired." Something in his voice was sending warning bells in Kakashi's head. But he said nothing and placed the medical kit on the side table. He got rid of his clothes, pulled on some cotton pants and joined Iruka in the bed. He wrapped his arms around him, rubbing gentle circles on the thin stomach. "Please don't." Iruka said half-heartedly.
"Don't what?" Kakashi asked, not sure.
"Don't do that. Please." Iruka said, brows knitting in sadness. Kakashi stopped rubbing circles and settled for just holding Iruka instead.
Kakashi said nothing else and dozed off to sleep, seemingly content with having Iruka beside him. Hours ticked away and Iruka was drowning in his empty thoughts. Then something tickled his mind, a thought, some form of duty he had to do before he left. He checked Kakashi's face and slowly, as quietly as he could, despite his protesting bones and muscles, got out of bed. He pulled out a blank scroll from his drawer along with an inkbottle and brush. He padded to the dining table, sat down and began to write his will.
Once he was sure he had everything written down, he cast a simple spell on the scroll, that would only be opened once the chakra holding the seal fades, which will only occur upon his death. He set the scroll in one of the shelves of his living room, beside the forehead protector that he wore and decided to go back to lie down.
Pain suddenly gripped his middle, and the ability to breathe became a difficult task. He started to whimper, leaning against the wall. Before he knew it, he was coughing violently once more, his knees gone weak. Blood came trickling down from between the fingers clasped over his mouth to silence the hacking noises, forming a freakish puddle in front of him. He wondered briefly if he'd die from the loss of blood and the thought actually brought a smile of humor to his lips even while he coughed.
Not being able to stand it anymore, he dropped to one side, the blood trickling down from his lips and forming a new puddle. Soon, both puddle would join and form a bigger one. The idea of dying of blood loss was really funny to him at the moment that he smiled. He actually smiled and started to giggle slightly at the insanity of it all. Humor turned in to sorrow and soon he was crying silently once more, as he did for several nights. The tears never seemed to dry.
He cried for Naruto.
He cried for his students.
He cried for his life.
He cried for Kakashi, who was just sleeping in the next room, unaware of what was happening and still managed to have Iruka's love. Iruka wondered briefly if Kakashi ever felt anything for him other than a bedmate.
"I wish." He whispered. "I wish, just for one moment, that he'd look at me and maybe I'd see a love restrained." More tears trickled down to the floor, as he remained on his side, staring at the wall of his living room. "Like what I see in mine, when I look in the mirror." He whimpered and wrapped his arms around his middle, the burning feeling intensifying. All of a sudden, death seemed beautiful, an eternal sleep that he would never get tired of. Anything was better than the hell he was going through.
I want to die.
His mirror image, the red-eyed one, appeared and lay in front of him, on his side, mimicking his position.
"Don't you want to live?""No."
"It's still not too late."
"I don't care."
"They're angry."
"Let them be."
"Kill him."
"No."
"Kill him."
"No."
"Kill him!""No!"
"KILL HIM!""NO!"
Iruka screamed back, loud and sharp, voice tearing and cracking, throat going raw and painful. The bedroom door slammed open and Kakashi stepped out, just in time to see Iruka hacking up again, blood dripping down his mouth as he struggled to breathe and control his tears.
Everything seems to have slowed down by several notches. Kakashi rushed to his side, helped him get to a better position so that he could breathe and wiped the blood off his face and mouth with his trembling palm. Mismatched eyes looked upon dark ones and fear was in them. Iruka didn't understand why he was seeing fear in Kakashi's eyes. Kakashi was never afraid. He was cool, controlled and always ready. Why was he afraid?
"Iruka…" He whispered, brushing back the locks of hair. He carried him to the bedroom, holding him with utmost care that Iruka was in a land of wonder. "Iruka." Kakashi said again, softly, almost quiet.
"I'm dying." Iruka said, hoping that his words would bring some form of relief from the mess of thoughts Kakashi must have. "I'm dying, Kakashi."
And then, he saw, for the first time, in Kakashi's eyes, a love restrained.
The pain his insides was going through was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
TBC
sniff